Eng Charley's ab sns, of del 20 17 Dom in her and singers just as I VIS DIT Meang for the alzin. Her in sua pastons, was me fier of the bei, vieron she twisted wered 10 se negambie a heap is be run a painfi, sight for any one but a produssed contortionist to Her knees, drawn up to a level with der chin in the most until minner formed a sort of bundle, tom wich her head protruded, its great mass of blonde hair tumbling out of her close prim night-cap and completely hiding her shoulders. Having accomplished this gymnastic attitude to her fill satisfaction, she very often succeeded in putting me to sleep with her low musical chatter about Charley and herself. One evening, however, her confidence took so interesting a turn that I listened without feeling at all drowsy. I heard something that kept thinking over it, long after left the room. It was a very and it related to Cousin past life. I shall give it in own words: uite sure, Gertrude," Maud at Charley would be vexed ointed if he knew that I had I am going to tell, even to it is such a great unwieldy 1 seem to need a little help it. Of course, there is no your repeating a word. This y Charley first came to tell and mother went to bed rather know, the night before he e were alone together in the m, talking very pleasantly fire. I happened to mention urprise which I had planned when he suddenly asked: ou know anything about this d? I mean, have you found ng of her past life? I don't uncharitable towards your articular, but one meets with adventuresses occasionally, of business.' so angry, Gertrude, when he that I could have slapped ly. I shall certainly try to arley's proneness for saying s about people after we are The mere idea of calling such a name! You may ow I defended her. First, myself of everything that advanced in favor of her rey; then I described her sweet s eloquently as I knew how? lent for a long time after I ed, and I began to fear that had vexed him. The light turned down very low, and I y see his face dimly, in the he fire. After a while he h an odd sound in his voice ld not account for. tones thrilled me with pity. I suppose it was because I love him so deeply. "Tell me about it,' I said, tenderly. He did not speak, so I took his hand in mine and pressed it. I am not clever at guessing things, you know, Gertrude, and his words puzzled me. But something made me feel that if I was fond of him, now was the time to show my fondness. I put my other hand on his shoulder, and whispered very softly: "Don't you think that you had better tell me, Charley? Two can do battle with a grief better than one.' "After this I did not try to persuade him again, and we sat together in silence, both looking into the fire. Presently he began to speak, and when he had finished I knew the whole story, from beginning to end. "It is five years ago since Charley went to New Orleans to spend the winter. He must have lived a gay reckless life while there, Gertrude, if I am to judge from the hints which he threw out when speaking of New Orleans society. He talked a great deal about the city and the indolent ease in which the inhabitants pass their days, until I suspected that he was dreading to commence the history which I was waiting to hear. I can not say whether this hesitation was caused by an unwillingness to awaken unhappy recollections, or whether by a mistrust of their effect upon myself. I certainly did not feel very comfortable, Gertrude, when he spoke at last of his acquaintance with 6 a handsome, clever, educated woman,' his senior by a few years, who lived as governess to a family in which he visited intimately. From what Charley said I should suppose this woman to have been the incarnation of all that was charming-one of those syrens who make strong men kneel at their feet and weep over them, and commit friend may be an angel, all kinds of absurd actions. I don't e said, but I have known believe that Charley, however, was ite as evil within as lovely guilty of any such follies as these. He I knew one of them, once, to only loved her devotedly (I was jealSorrow.' ous when he said that), and asked her rtain mournfulness in his to be his wife. She did not refuse. that day by day he treated her with more tenderness and respect, and that where she had at first only amused she now began to interest him. I thought of this a great deal, and pondered upon it, and asked myself whether anything would come of the altered relations between them. Then I gave up thinking about it altogether, after a while, and determined to patiently await results. Charley had not been at The Elms more than a fortnight, when mother told me, in her composed way, that he had asked my sister to be his wife, and that Maud had accepted, and that the engagement had received her (mother's) sanction. This announcement surprised me not a little. I felt quite indignant at Maud, on first hearing it, for not having intrusted me with her confidence before outsiders were free to talk of the affair as something definitely settled. "It was very trying," I said to myself, "that one sister should be unwilling to seek the advice and sympathy of another, and especially trying in Maud's case, as she had reason to know of my fealty in the matter of secrets." But I felt my annoyance considerably lessened by the graceful way in which she said to me after tea, that evening, when we happened to be left alone together: Charley's wish and her own and mother's, and she hoped that it was mine also. She was not quite sure as to the exact "when." Something had been said about next month, but there would be so much to do for several weeks that such an arrangement appeared next to impossible. She wanted to have a nice quiet wedding at the old church in the village, and to have a little party afterwards. She was going to plan a splendid surprise for Helen Rowe, and should not write a word about the engagement till a week beforehand, when the accumulated confidence of a month should burst upon Helen with the most meteoric effect, accompanied by cards for the wedding, as a sort of guarranty that the whole thing was not merely a playful fiction. Mother and I kept very busy superintending the trousseau, and Charley was sent to New York with a letter for one of our female relations, containing all sorts of commissions in the line of dry-goods and dress-making. Maud was not at all désolée in his absence; I think her happiness was by far too genuine for so slight a trouble to overshadow it. Somehow my sister acquired a habit, during Charley's absence, of stealing into my room in her dressing-gown and slippers just as I was about retiring for the night. Her favorite seat, on such occasions, was the foot of the bed, whereon she twisted herself into so unrecognizable a heap as to be quite a painful sight for any one but a professed contortionist to contemplate. Her knees, drawn up to a level with her chin in the most une natural manner, formed a sort of bundle from which her head protruded, great mass of blonde hair tumbling o of her close prim night-cap and e pletely hid her shoulders. Hav accompli his gymnastic attitud her full otion, she very often ceed ng me to sleep wit low utter about Charl evening however "Mamma says she has told you all about it, Gertrude. I hope you are glad, and I want you to kiss me and say so." Then she told me, in the winning, childish way that used to become her so well, how strange it had seemed, at first, to have Charley ask her to marry him; and how she had said, " give me a little time to think it all over;" and how it had come upon her, by degrees, that a deep love had been deepening ever since their childhood, and had grown out of their romps and frolics, not quickly like a flower, but with the slower growth of a tree. I heard her story, and kissed the sweet ripe mouth that told it, and then became inquisitive in a matter-of-fact manner as to he when and where and how they be married. The enga a very short one, M A thousand hues the sunbeams shed; The lyre hath a golden tone; Curse and snarl, and blare and whir, Silence! rabble; here is Saul; Edepol! that thronging mane; What a breast! those brazen paws! Jaws that at a single quaff A wide and steady glare around- Is he crouching in rushes rank, For the shy gazelle on the Niger's bank? From that bound and awful blow, Drag him out! the heart is still, |